


passing afternoon

by storyskein



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Timestamp, between 4.2 and 4.3, bi bellamy, weed moonshine and blow jobs with friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 10:35:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9719255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyskein/pseuds/storyskein
Summary: Miller and Bellamy find time for a relaxing afternoon post 4.2





	

**Author's Note:**

> __  
> There are things that drift away,  
>  Like our endless numbered days.
> 
> \--Passing Afternoon by Iron & Wine

Bellamy smells the smoke before he sees it, and he sees the curl coming from around the corner when he rounds it. Miller’s hiding a few steps further, tucked into the junction of two hunks of metal. It’s Miller’s place to go to get away from it all, at the very back of Arkadia where the fence meets the treeline. Most people are wary of it, but not Miller. 

_Scared of what? Grounders?_ Miller had laughed at him the first time Bellamy found him here. He looked to the trees, and the rise beyond it. _Fuck ‘em. There’s no privacy in this damn place so I’ll take what I can get_. _If they decide they need to spear me for it, oh the fuck well_. 

“You’re loud as goddamn moose,” Miller says without even turning his head. His eyes are trained on the trees beyond him and in full summer now the leaves are a bright and velvety green. “Want some?” 

Bellamy takes the proffered joint, puts it to his lips. The smoke burns the back of his throat a little--he hasn’t smoked since Gina died, when they used to escape out of Monty’s secret hatch and go wandering--but that’s a thought he shoves quickly away. He’s here for Miller. 

“So, that thing with you and Bryan.” Bellamy hands back the joint as he takes off his jacket and settles on the grass next to him. He and Miller don’t small talk, so he might as well get right to it. 

Miller squints, but doesn’t turn his head. His tone is both gruff and thoughtful. “You know. It’s just not the same with people who didn’t come down with us. He had his own experience. I had mine.” 

Bellamy takes another inhale, holds it, enjoys the acrid, dry feeling in his mouth. “So, it’s over?”

“I guess,” Miller shrugs. “Some of his clothes were gone.” 

They go quiet for awhile. The sounds of Arkadia are behind them and are quickly fading away. A warm, lazy summer breeze rustles the long grass. It’s peaceful back here, and with Miller, it’s nothing complicated. Best friends since Miller used to steal things for him on the Ark. In turn, Bellamy wrote some of his book reports. Nothing like a little criminality and cheating to seal the bond. When they were older the shared services turned into occasional make-outs and mutual blow jobs, explorations in closets and in Miller’s room. They’re all pleasant memories--some of the best he had on the Ark, to be honest, the few moments when his time and relationships were his own. 

Bellamy is nicely high--not too much, just enough so that the trip to Farm Station fades away, the thought that he needs to be in the Council Room _right this second_ seems distant--when Miller coughs a little. “So what about you and Clarke? Has that thing begun?”

“Way to harsh a buzz.” 

“It’s what best friends are for, Blake.” Miller leans back against the metal siding of Alpha Station and closes his eyes. “Question stands. Don’t be a coward.”

Bellamy joins Miller in leaning back against the warm metal siding. “I don’t know.”

“You two have been eye fucking since we landed. What’s the hold up?”

“You know what the hold up is.” This is not what Bellamy wants to be thinking about right now, as much as he...whatever he feels about Clarke...it’s complicated.

But Miller doesn’t press it, because they’re best friends and he knows better. Instead he cracks one eye open at Bellamy and grins. “So what you’re telling me is that you’re not with her?”

The implication of that grin drops heat into Bellamy’s lower stomach. He grins back, can feel the possibility at what’s about to happen tingle at his jaw. “No. I’m not with her.” 

“Yet,” Nate amends. “You will be.”

“Maybe. If we survive,” Bellamy gesticulates at the limitless, startlingly azure sky above them, “this.”

Miller follows his gaze upwards, sobers a little. It’s that heaviness that comes into everyone’s eyes when they consider what’s at hand, what’s at stake. That there are only, as of now, a hundred people that can be saved. But as Bellamy watches, Nate shakes his head a little, as if saying _not now._ He turns back to Bellamy, his grin charming and impudent in the way only Miller can pull off. “All the more reason to get blow jobs while we can.” 

Bellamy laughs, a full, sharp sound. “Christ, Nate, if you wanted me to blow you all you had to do was ask.”

“I want you to blow me. Please?” Miller leans over and brushes his lips against Bellamy’s. They don’t kiss much, never did, it’s just not what they wanted. But it’s sweet, when their days might be numbered, to just kiss. It seems so simple and soft compared to everything else. 

“Fine,” Bellamy breathes against his mouth. “Stand your lazy ass up.”

Miller grins, pecks him on the cheek. “You have the best mouth, Blake,” he says as he unbuttons his guard pants, “just don’t tell my ex I said that. Just in case.”

Bellamy grips Miller’s calf affectionately, strokes his hand up Miller’s leg. “Promise, your secret’s safe with…” He trails off as Miller shoves down his boxers and his cock springs free. Bellamy’s mouth waters and he automatically kisses the dark, flushed tip. “Fuck.” 

Miller’s dick is a thing of beauty, always has been to Bellamy. Dark and smooth, and when he really gets into it, flushed a deep crimson at the head. Bellamy licks at the tip as he runs his fist lightly up and down the shaft, getting used to the feeling of Miller again, letting muscle-memory kick in to the last time they had done this, when they had hurriedly gotten each other off back at the Dropship. 

“Shit, that’s it,” Miller groans, slides his fingers into Bellamy’s curls as Bellamy licks a thick, wet stripe along the underside of Miller’s cock. “Wet as you can make it.” 

Bellamy leans down, grabs Millers canteen and takes a swig of cool water, then immediately goes takes Miller into his mouth. Bellamy looks up under his eyelashes at Miller, who bites his lips to keep from groaning. But his hips thrust into Bellamy’s mouth, his grip tightens in his hair. 

They settle into a rhythm. The exposure of doing this outside sends blood rushing to Bellamy’s own cock and he can feel himself harden with every stroke of his fist on Miller, with every suck on Miller’s cock. He hasn’t done this in months and it’s so hot, so easy to give Miller pleasure. He strokes lightly over his pants as he fingers grip Miller tight, rounding over the head and drawing Miller’s precum down, mixing it with his spit. 

“Oh god, yeah,” Miller murmurs, starts thrusting into Bellamy’s mouth in earnest. Bellamy sucks harder, hollowing out his cheeks and clamping down his grip just like he knows Miller likes. He cups his other hand at Miller’s balls, rolls them in between his fingers as they tighten. 

“I’m gonna come.” Miller whines and his pace is erratic. He tries to pull away but Bellamy grips him, and just as he does, Bellamy feels Miller’s hot cum hit the back of his throat, hears the _thunk_ of Miller’s head on the metal siding of the Ark. Miller’s dick twitches in his mouth until he’s done, and Bellamy swallows, enjoying the salty-tangy taste. Fuck, it’s been too long, he’s forgotten how much he loves it. He slides off gently, runs his hands along Miller’s hips, helping him come down a bit. 

“Shit, Bellamy,” Miller says a moment later, finally opening his eyes. "Nice to see you haven't lost your touch."

Bellamy smirks, but just takes Miller’s flask out of his cargo pocket where he tries to hide it. Unscrews the top and sips some of Monty’s harsh moonshine. “I should hope not. It’s only been what, five months? Since the dropship.”

“And you were trading favors with Carly Johnson and Michael Richards before that.” Bellamy goes quiet and blushes, and Miller barks out a laugh. “What, you think I didn’t know? Even the Sky Box had ears, Blake.”

But before things get awkward Miller is smoothly undoing the buttons of his pants, his hand sliding down his boxers to grip his hard cock. 

“Fuck, Blake,” Miller whispers into his ear. “Where you even going to say anything, you martyr?”

“Shut up.” Bellamy’s voice comes out strangled even to his own ears as Miller starts pumping his dick. Fuck, he had forgotten somehow how good it felt to have a man’s hand on him, something that was strong and tight and knew just how to move. Miller strokes him hard, then focuses on short and swift on the tip, drawing his precum down the shaft. 

Just when it got too sticky and awkward, when Bellamy wants _more_ , Miller drops to his knees and shoves Bellamy’s pants down. And fuck, when Miller takes him in one movement, all the way so the head of Bellamy’s cock bumps the back of Miller’s throat, it’s almost enough to make him come right there. And it doesn’t take long when Miller opens up the back of his throat so Bellamy can slide all the way back, and shit, that feels good. Bellamy’s eyes flutter closed, lost in the sensation of Miller’s mouth and the warm sunshine and gentle high that made everything else seem so faded, so far away. 

Bellamy feels his orgasm build, it tightens his balls and heat spreads between his hips. Then Miller slides off his dick, keeps his tongue on the tip while he fists rapidly over the frenulum. Bellamy lets go, thick white cum hitting Miller’s tongue. 

Moments later and Miller and Bellamy sit back against the wall again, bodies easily leaning against each other. It's nice and warm to just _be_ with someone, to have casual affection, to watch as late summer meadow flowers bob lazily in the balmy breeze. 

Miller passes him the moonshine. “Good times,” Miller murmurs, his eyes focused now on the light gold of the early summer sunset. “Good times.”

And it is, Bellamy thinks, following Miller’s gaze past the fence of Arkadia. It’s a pretty good way to pass an afternoon at the end of the world. 


End file.
